


The night he began to heal

by artepotter



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Healing Tea, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, fandom references all the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 01:04:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artepotter/pseuds/artepotter
Summary: Ironstrange week, day 1 - "First contact"After Thanos was defeated, slowly everyone started to return to their lives, to finally get some peace. Stephen Strange visits the Avengers HQ every day - on a Friday night, he realizes what he hasn't done yet.





	The night he began to heal

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I've never written a fanfic this long in English, so please be aware of that :D I hope you will like it :)

Three weeks have passed like a few minutes. Slowly everything started to get back to normal, everyone returned to their normal life, to the calm weekdays – if Stephen wouldn’t had to be at the Avengers HQ every day to heal, he would have thought Thanos never existed.

It was Friday evening, the sorcerer was in the kitchen, holding a cup of fresh tea in his hands. The warmness of the mug felt like somebody's hands, somebody who made Stephen feel like the scars on his fingers are flowers. Beautiful, on their right place.

He suddenly felt bitter, rotten, in his entire body. He drank the last sweet drops of the liquid before he stood up to open a portal to the Sanctum. He didn't want to spend any more minutes at the Avengers. As he turned around, he spotted the end of the hallway, where cold, bright light was glimmering.

There was no discredit – Stephen knew it could be only one person up in these late hours.  
He lowered his hands as he decided to open the portal later. Something needed to be done.  
His steps became more slow and unconfident as he got closer and closer to Tony Stark's main office. Why is he doing that anyway? They've been ignoring each other since Thanos was defeated and everybody got out of the Soul Stone. They did not owe a thing for each other.  
Even though it was the billionaire who actively ignored the wizard, Strange felt like he have to… talk.

He stopped at the doorstep, crossed his arms in front of him, and tried to be at least a little bit surprised that he found Tony at his enormous desk, half-asleep. In front of him, there were hundreds of notes, piles of high-tech tools, but none of them seemed like it distrained Stark.  
The hard light made his features and whole being look exhausted, vulnerable, empty. Stephen had to realize, it possibly wasn’t the lamp.  
Deep, dark circles ran under Stark's eyes, what were stuck to the silver, well groomed pen he was holding.

‘I've told you, Rhodey, it won't be ready until-’ Tony stopped, and turned around in his chair. ‘You're not Rhodey.’

‘No shit Sherlock’ murmured Strange.

Silence crumbled through them, like a third, abominable person.

‘Can I help you out, or you just came here to play the role of the wise wizard and send me to sleep?' asked Tony after a few moments, now finally paying full attention to his visitor.

‘I was thinking about it. Tea?'

He made a portal, and in the next moment he was holding a dark green mug to Tony.

‘I don't drink tea, Dumbledore.’

‘Is there any Avenger who drinks tea?' Stephen dramatically lifted his eyes at the ceiling. 'What do you drink then, Bob the builder?'

‘Let's stop with the names.’ Tony started to put away the documents from the table, then he switched off his computer. ‘I drink literally anything what contains caffeine by the way.’

‘I can already hear your blood pressure screaming and crying.’

‘Anything else, doc?'

A heavy, exhausted sigh teared out of Stephen.

‘Look, I don't want to bother or push you, I just wanted to… check on you.’

Tony gave a confused look to the other. Spasms in his stomach started to lightly dissolve, but the choking and constant world’s-end-feeling stayed. Of course they did.  
Stephen reluctantly took a seat next to Tony’s, but instead of making an eye contact with him, he ferociously studied the garden and the outside training center, shrouded in the night.

‘Well, I'm pretty much alive, so thanks.’

‘That's not it’ answered Stephen immediately. ‘Your body survived. But I’m pretty sure other wounds won’t be healed if you don’t talk to anyone.’

Tony was still sitting at his – now extremely tidy – desk, looking confused, fooled, like he was waiting expecting this to be a teasing, a joke.  
Stephen couldn’t understand how and why people don’t care about Tony Stark. He was so sure that there are worlds buried in that man's mind, that only needs an explorer, yet no one had the courage to start the journey.

The master was surprised by his own thoughts. When did he get to know Tony this well again?

‘Why would you think I’m not talking to anyone?’ Tony’s tone changed, but Stephen couldn’t tell in what way. It was a foreign, new side of Iron Man. It was just the Man. ‘For example, Rhodey and Banner comes to visit almost every day.’

‘I know that too, I’ve heard them talking about you ignoring them,’ There was a bitter smile hiding between Stephen’s lips. ‘Tony. I-’  
He stopped. He, himself wasn’t sure what is he doing exactly, and most importantly, why is he doing that thing. Somehow it felt like the will of his actions came from somewhere deep, burdened part of his mind. Or heart. It didn’t really matter.

‘I know,’ he continued ‘maybe I am one of the last person you want as a company, and I’m not asking you to spend time with people you don’t feel comfortable, I’m asking you to try to be open. I’ve been there, you’ve been there before, you should… you should know, that dealing with your panic attacks and your own thoughts alone won’t take you far.’  
Stephen’s words were flowing, pouring, like a summer storm what waited for too long. At that point, he had to admit to himself; he really did care for Tony Stark.  
Tony stared at him, with a filmy visage. Stephen only had obscure and distant ideas of what could have been going on in the billionaire’s head, but he had to stop speculating as the dark haired man finally opened his mouth to say something;

‘I’ll take that tea,’

Strange slowly handed the still warm cup over, and none of them cared to pull away when their fingers were touching for seconds. It was pretty much their first physical interaction since they’ve landed on Titan. Stephen felt something, something he thought he would never feel.

And they talked. Talked, talked, and talked.

It was midnight. Stephen shared the story of his accident after Tony told his.

It was 1 AM. They decided to switch on the TV and watch something, so maybe they could fall asleep faster.

It was 2:42 AM. They were still laughing at stupid lines in rom-coms.

It was 3:27 AM. Tony talked about Peter, the other Avengers, Steve… Siberia.

They didn’t know what time it was. Tony was crying. Stephen didn’t know what do to at first, then he embraced him in a loose, but calming hug.  
The sun was rising. The office started to fill up with orange, warm light, what in time reached the two men, sleeping on the couch.

Stephen woke up, and for a moment, he thought it would be the best if he leaves and goes back to the Sanctum – but his eyelids, and the desires of his heart were too heavy. He looked down at Tony, who was still sleeping on his shoulder, then he closed his eyes, and pulled a bit closer to Tony.

He didn’t want to be anywhere else.


End file.
